Muted Silence
by cxtchingstars
Summary: An unheard voice, a flash of green light with platinum blond hair and then, dead silence. Will he ever be saved or will his voice be concealed for eternity? DMHG
1. Prologue

She lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. She had tossed and turned for the past hour or so. The red lace with slightly sparkled gold stars decorated the ceiling – just the way she liked it. It gave her the smallest sense of hope when everything in the world was falling apart. At least her room was the way she liked it.

Being Head Girl came with its own privileges, and lots and lots of responsibility. She loved the responsibility, the amount of work that never ceased to distract her from the continuous stream of life. Everyone thought it was just her nerdy self who simply loved doing homework.

That was just the partial truth.

She loved it because it was the only way she could distract herself. She had so many things she shut out to the back of her brain – never to be revealed. No one would ever know. She really did love learning though. She would take charms and potions over english and maths any day.

Her eyelids flickered for the billionth time as she tried to go to sleep once again. Thoughts and memories clouded her brain as she shut her eyes tight, determined to be unphased.

Life was an ongoing war.

The War had changed everyone, herself included. Deaths of her friends and essentially the loss of both of her parents had took its toll on her.

 _A flashing green light, a tuff of blond hair, more green light and then darkness and nothing more._

It was quite a simple chain of events.

Her eyes flicked over to the clock on her left, 2.37am.

She had a meeting with Professor Mcgonagall in roughly five hours. Her lack of sleep for the past month or so was quite worrying. It was pretty obvious to everyone around her that she had been sleeping less and less – but then again it was the usual 'Oh Hermione's just probably studying for the exams that are a year away' or 'Hermione's just finishing homework and more'. She was quite sick of it actually, of the persona she had created for herself.

She just wanted to be free, to be wanted by someone and just … be happy to be herself.

He tossed and turned, staring up at the empty ceiling. He wanted some sort of decoration, maybe some green, maybe some silver. Just something. Something to bring him back to sanity.

His room was deadly silent. He tried saying something but thought against it.

He scanned the room for something, anything.

Most of his belongings had been sent home after the War. His room was the definition of clean, perfect and well 'pure'.

Piles of homework sat on the desk a couple of metres away. Lots of work to be done, things to be organised. He never did his homework until this year. He realised there was no better way to avoid the world than to study – tuck himself in a dim corner of the library never to be seen.

His life was the dullest it had ever been. Go to class, avoid stares, eat, avoid more stares, do homework, avoid stares and ignore all the insults everyone would throw him. Merlin, he hated his life but there was nothing he could do about it.

A green badge somehow glistened in the darkness.

'Head Boy'

He didn't deserve it and he knew so. Perhaps it was some sick plan of Dumbledore's such that he would never make any friends ever. Maybe Dumbledore realised that if the infamous Malfoy was made Head Boy, no one would ever want to be friends with him – with the exception of several Slytherins who he didn't want to associate with. Maybe the all great Head of Hogwarts had figured out the master plan that everyone would insult him if he was Head Boy and that it would make his hope of blending into the darkness purely impossible.

He wanted to scoff at the irony of the situation.

He listened for some sort of sound that convinced himself he hadn't died.

The slight sound of tossing and turning from the room next door alerted him of his futile existence. He wished he was dead. Being dead would be so much better than being the non-living that he was.

He had tried communicating with her, not because he wanted to, but he needed some sort of company before he needed to be rushed off to a mental hospital. He had never associated himself with her and never intended to unless it was necessary.

He shut his eyes.

The same nightmare all over again – they said nightmares were stemmed from bad memories.

They were right.

 _A spark of green light from a wand he identified as his fathers. One curse he couldn't remember the name of. He had blacked out ever since and when he awoke:_

 _His voice couldn't be heard._

* * *

Hope you enjoyed this prologue :)

\- K

Ps. Any feedback would be appreciated as I know my writing style isn't that good :)


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N** Ok so apparently I uploaded this chapter, went to sleep, and it never uploaded as it said (null) somewhere so yeah here is the official chapter

* * *

She awoke to the annoying ringing of her alarm, glancing at the clock: 7.40am. She rubbed her eyes, blinking several times, her eyesight adjusting to the sunlight reflecting off her mirror into her eyes. She took a quick look at the window next to her – it looked like a significantly nice day.

Hermione pushed all her negative feelings to the back of her brain, every day was a new day right? She rolled the blanket off herself, got out of bed and folded it nicely back into place. She plumped her pillows.

Perfect.

She headed to her bathroom in her room – once again another Head Girl privilege. She was glad she did not have to share the bathroom with the narcissistic boy next door. Merlin knows how long he takes in front of the room to make sure his hair is absolutely perfect. Not that she thought it was perfect in any way.

She gathered her clothes for the day, brushed her teeth and took a nice warm shower. Her hair had lost its untamed nature, now falling nicely into little brunette curls she absolute adored. No longer was she the ugly bushy haired girl, now she was the ugly tamed haired girl. At least so she thought.

There was no denying Hermione had sprouted during the War. Her teeth were pearly whites, hair gorgeously curled, body well developed. The only thing negative was that her eyes seemed to have lost that little bit of shine it always had. She was humble though, and never thought of herself as pretty. I guess maybe the unending flow of insults had damaged her self-esteem, or maybe she had resounded to the simple fact that she might never be pretty to someone.

She took a deep breath.

As she exited the shower, she heard a similar alarm go off next door before it was stopped within seconds.

Looks like the Head Boy had woken up.

Her mind drifted to the day she had been told she was Head Girl. It was the one of the best and worst days of her life. It was so expected of her to become Head no one was even surprised – no one even bothered to congratulate her. Besides Harry who simply said 'Congrats Mione, but we already knew you'd get it'. She tried to take it as a compliment though, with it being expected signalling her good work ethic and flawless grades. The moment she found out Draco was Head Boy was definitely unexpected.

There was slight clapping from the Slytherins but everyone else was shocked. Their shock then turned into dismay, with the Great Hall erupting into boos and complaints within seconds. She understood full well why though, she didn't want Draco to be Head Boy either. He had done nothing to deserve it – unlike she had.

She had been working with him for a couple months, expecting several insults to her muggle heritage. But none came. He had been awfully silent – then again it was probably as he had run out of insults.

That git.

She wondered what it would have been like to lose the War. Everything he had believed in had been thrown out the window the minute Harry defeated the Dark Lord. Now he was just a powerless school boy who kept his head down, studying as hard as he could.

To be honest she gave him tremendous respect for not insulting her and for somewhat accepting defeat and just surrendering to the fact that his side had lost the War. She expected him to put up more of a fight.

She pushed all thoughts of the blond bastard to the back of her mind. She didn't want to spend moer time thinking of him than necessary. As the Head Prefects, she already saw him every day due to their sharing of the Head dorms.

She looked at the clock again – 8.25am.

She had to meet Professor McGonagall before going to her first class, but was lazy to walk all the way back from her office to her dorm. Gathering her books for the first period of the day – potions, she sighed. She was good at potions but it was definitely not her strongest subject. She couldn't deny that the blond ferret had a knack at potion making. Coupled with the previously biased potions professor and his undeniable talent of inventing potions no one has ever heard of before (without blowing anything up), he had beat her in every way and merlin how bad she wanted to ask him how he did it. But her pride got in the way. She could see it in the headlines – Head Girl asking former death-eater how to concoct a potion.

She knew she was exaggerating but she still did not want anyone to think she was inept. She couldn't afford another rumour, another insult. She was so done.

Hermione briskly made her way to Professor Mcgonagall's office, not wanting to be late for her first class. She had a reputation to live up to of being the first one there, it was like a routine.

'Lemon Drops'

The stairway turned as Hermione made her way to the Professor's desk.

'I'm sorry, what did you want to see me for?' Hermione asked, uncertain if she had unintentionally broken any rules. She certainly hoped not and was pretty sure that she didn't, but she had a bad inkling in her stomach.

'Hermione, your grades have been exceptional. You have done all your Head Girl duties very well.' Professor McGonagall stated, making Hermione blush at the compliment. Getting a compliment from the strict professor was definitely something she should remember. The Professor continued, 'However, I have recently noticed you don't seem to be engaging with many other students. Is there something wrong?'

Hermione looked down for a brief second before looking up at the ceiling again. There was nothing extremely wrong that had happened in her life recently. Just build up tension and pressure from the school work. Also the uncertainty of whether she would see her family again had rested on her shoulders ever since the end of the War.

'No Professor, there's nothing wrong' Hermione said, her voice unwavering. She was tired of being pitied or Professors always thinking she needed some sort of mental therapy after the War.

The War had changed everyone; she was no exception. All she wanted was for everyone to leave her alone. There was nothing she hated more than appearing weak in front of others.

Hermione clenched her right fist before continuing, 'Is that all Professor?'

Professor McGonagall took a quick glance at Dumbledore's portrait behind her. 'Has there been anything you have noticed which is unusual between you and Malfoy? I know there have been some animosity between the two of you, but I'm hoping that the both of you could set an example for the younger years regarding house unity.'

Hermione was slightly taken aback, she had definitely not expected this. She detected a small sense of hope in Professor McGonagall's eye before it quickly faded, only to be replaced with the mask the Professor always wore.

'No Professor, we haven't really talked. In fact, I made an effort regarding the Head duties but he just ignored me. I have given up on trying to communicate with him, he just never puts in any effort and does not seem to ever want to fix things or make things right.' Hermione started, with memories flashing back into her brain. She honestly didn't want to have anything to do with the blond boy if she could help it.

'Hermione, I know this is really hard, but I really really need you to make an effort into befriending Malfoy somehow. It is extremely important for the wellbeing of this school' Professor McGonagall seemed to be pleading, as to which Hermione could only begrudging nod a 'Yes Professor' before leaving her office.

Hermione's brain stirred. She found this entire situation oddly strange. She had so many questions but she knew the Professor had her intentions for not telling her the whole truth. She just had to figure everything out by herself.

As she always did.

* * *

Professor McGonagall watched as the brunette walked out of her office. Once she was sure Hermione was out of earshot, she spun around to talk to the former Headmaster.

'Why couldn't we just tell her everything?' The professor asked, her tone questioning as she arched her brow.

Dumbledore's slow voice echoed through his office as he said thoughtfully, 'Patience, Minerva. This is for the best. This is the only way to ensure Draco's life is not in danger.'

Her face contortioned into one of worry. He was far from her favourite student, but she felt obliged to care for him. After everything that had happened in the War it was the least she could do for him. He was one of the most wronged and mainly innocent, merely misguided due to his heritage.

'What exactly is wrong with him?'

'Lucius cursed him. No one really knows of the curse at the moment and the reason for it. I had Snape look through the books of dark magic to hopefully find something that could be a cure, but there has been nothing yet.'

'Why couldn't we just tell Hermione that Malfoy was unable to speak or be heard?' Professor McGonagall slowed her speech, try to make sure she did not sound rude for questioning the wise Headmaster.

'The last time Lucius had cursed Draco before the final battle. When someone mentioned the curse, Draco would be crucio'd from within. It would cause immense pain, from the burning of his chest to the dark mark prickling him from the inside. I fear that mentioning the curse to Hermione might cause her to try and research everything herself. She is a wise girl, Minerva. I only want her to know after we have more information. Can't you see it in their eyes? The both of them are absolutely miserable. I'm hoping that some sort of interaction between the both of them might save them from the same darkness they can't escape from.'

Professor McGonagall nodded in response, finally understanding the Headmaster.

She couldn't do anything now but wait.

Hopefully either for some new discovery about Draco's curse or a friendship to blossom between them.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading** **J** **Here is chapter 1 (after the prologue). Please feel free to review and comment on anything I could improve on. I know my english is not that great – thank you to the previous reviewer who told me I had spelt tuft wrong xD**

\- **K**


	3. Chapter 2 - Nightmares

**Hey guys! Shorter chapter this time round I'm sorry but I really wanted to update.**

 **3 you guys and hope you enjoy**

* * *

Hermione knocked on his door. It had been a long tiring day of classes for her and though she didn't want to, she really did take the Professor's considerations to heart.

She didn't believe the whole story on 'House Unity' as she sensed a little glimmer of something in the Professor's eyes. They were keeping a secret from her, and she didn't like it.

She knocked for the second time.

No answer.

'Malfoy? Are you in there?' She called his name, a somewhat unfamiliar feeling as she had not talked to him since the War. She sighed, maybe he was studying in the library or something.

She rested her hand on the door handle, contemplating if she should enter his room or not. Would it be considered an invasion of privacy?

She knocked another two knocks before making up her mind.

The door screeched as she peered into his room, calling out in a quiet whisper, 'Malfoy?'. The room was strangely quiet.

Hermione strained her eyes, trying to pick up any sound at all. She walked forward slowly, not wanting to make any sound at all. She heard the sound of a slightly rushed breathing as she saw the blond boy sleeping on his bed.

Strange.

It was quiet early and despite having a tiring day, she did not know that Malfoy ever slept this early. He always seemed to be up late roaming the school grounds or studying in the library.

She approached his bed hesitantly, trying to be as quiet as possible. After realising he was asleep, she turned on her heel, heading out of his room – untouched territory in which she felt dangerous to tred upon.

She heard his arms flail onto the silk bedsheets as he tossed and turned.

Hermione was frozen. He was definitely having a nightmare by the looks of it. Should she wake him up or let him continue with this nightmare?

She turned back to the blond boy who was sleeping soundly about a second ago. A glistening tear rolled off his face as he turned on his back.

Hermione took the quietest footsteps that she could towards his bed. Sure, they were not friends or even acquaintances but it was painful seeing him struggle.

He looked so vulnerable, without the façade he had built for himself. He had his guard down, looking extremely fragile and … like a normal boy.

He had always kept up his mask of 'unemotional' and 'unforgiving', but seeing him like this led Hermione to the conclusion that he had his own problems, ones that could be even more life-changing than hers.

She slowly shook the blond boy.

'Malfoy?'

A strong pale arm grabbed her wrist as he bolted upright. Hermione yelped in pain as she looked at Draco, his hair dishevelled and his cheeks stained with tears.

He turned his back against her as he wiped his tears away.

'Malfoy…' Hermione was at a loss for words.

Draco shifted with unease as he turned to look at the Gryffindor girl, arching his eyebrows in the process, questioning why she was in his room in the first place.

'You had a nightmare. I didn't know what to do so I just thought maybe … that I maybe … that you … So I woke you up.' Hermione stuttered, feeling extremely stupid as she sensed the blond boy bore his eyes into her.

Draco's face returned to its normal stoic expression as he grabbed a sheet of paper next to him and his quill.

'Get out.'

Hermione didn't know if she should be offended or not. She decided against yelling her head off as she was quite tired for the day.

'A simple thank you would have been appreciated.' She huffed in annoyance, before beginning to walk away. She continued, 'And are you that arrogant that you can't even say a word and must write it on a piece of paper. You arrogant little brat'. Hermione clenched her fist as she lay a hand on her door handle.

She heard a little scribble before turning around to face him.

'Sore throat.'

Hermione locked eyes with the boy, his grey eyes seemed to reveal an entire new world behind them, one that she never knew if she would ever be allowed to enter. The boy was full of mysteries.

Hermione rolled her eyes, 'Fine. If you have another nightmare, do you want me to wake you up next time?' She inwardly cringed at how her tone made it seem as if she cared for him. Of course she didn't. She couldn't care less if he was crying in his sleep, probably sobbing over how his side lost the war or how his hair wasn't perfect.

She knew she was lying to herself.

Draco's eyes seemed to dim as he wrote back, 'I'll be fine'.

She imagined his tone of arrogance and confidence as he stated the words. It was a new feeling to her, it was much different communicating with the Slytherin this way. You couldn't sense the malice in his written words compared to his usual tone of disgust.

'Right, I'll um.. I'll let you go back to sleep now. And … yeah.' Hermione wanted to add a simple, 'I'm next door if you need me' but decided against it at the last second. She didn't need any glares from the boy nor did she need a gang of Slytherins coming after her.

And most importantly, she didn't want Malfoy thinking she actually cared for his sorry ass.

He gave her a crisp nod before he heard the door click, Hermione leaving the room. His mind raced.

He had no idea what she had been doing in his room nor did he want to know. She knew it was probably her first time entering his room based on the way she seemed so uncertain of what to do when he had a nightmare.

He hated the look of sympathy she gave him when she woke him up. He hated how she had seen him while he was vulnerable. He hated how she had to see him cry, even if he was asleep. God knows, she'll probably run to all her Gryffindor friends and announce to them about how weak and stupid he was.

He ran a hand through his hair, his eyelids fluttering shut as he tried to force himself to go back to sleep. His thoughts went back to the Gryffindor girl who had just seen him probably at his weakest. Damn his nightmares.

They were always ruining everything. Ruining his sanity, his life and now probably his reputation – damaging it more than possible.

He braced himself for the next day – one that would be of whispers and rumours of him.

* * *

 **Any criticism will be appreciated as I know my english isnt' that good and yeah love you guys lots 3**


End file.
